


Becker versus the Christmas party

by ebonyfeather



Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:02:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9325148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonyfeather/pseuds/ebonyfeather
Summary: Spiked punch, tipsy colleagues and shared hiding places





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually written for Christmas but never got posted… so it has now been posted (a bit late) for Becker week in 52 Weeks of Primeval over at **[Primeval_Denial](http://primeval_denial.livejournal.com) ******

Becker looked around with distaste at his semi-inebriated colleagues as they attempted what he supposed was meant to be dancing. If it was up to him, he would have made a quick escape hours ago or better yet, not turned up at all, but both Jess and Abby had threatened to hunt him down and drag him here if he attempted to dodge the Christmas party.

He sighed and took a sip of his drink from the plastic cup he’d been given, cringing as he did so. It looked as though Connor had managed to spike the Christmas punch, even though he’d sworn to Becker that he hadn’t. It must have happened recently as the last few glasses he’d drunk hadn’t been this strong, had they? Slipping away from the crowd he topped up his cup with water to try and dilute the alcohol. At least now when he drank it – if he didn’t have a drink, the women were likely to accuse him of being a party pooper – he might still be standing afterwards. 

“Cheer up! It’s a party, Becker!” Abby informed him, an almost empty cup of said alcohol-poisoning-masquerading-as-punch in her hand. “Come and dance with us.”

Forcing a smile, Becker fought the urge to tell her to sod off. Why was it that just because you didn’t want to get completely pissed and make a prat of yourself at a Christmas party people thought you were being boring? Seriously, if one more person told him to cheer up… Well, he probably wouldn’t do anything. He didn’t think it would be considered Christmassy if you strangled your colleagues, no matter how much toxic punch you’d consumed. 

He could still imagine it, though. So far he was up to ‘N’ in his alphabetical mental list of ways to murder someone... Napalm? Nah, too messy. Nun-chucks? 

“That’s nice of you, Abby, but I’m just going to stay here and enjoy my punch,” he told her. “Besides, I think that Jess is calling you.”

Abby turned to look and Becker took the opportunity to get a safe distance away before she realised that Jess probably hadn’t even noticed that she’d left in the first place. 

Finding a nice quiet corner, he backed into the shadows. If he could have one superpower, it would be the ability to become invisible. 

Or maybe teleportation. Now that would be more useful; he wouldn’t need to disappear if he could simply transport himself to somewhere else in the blink of an eye. Becker took another sip of his watered-down drink as he contemplated that. Then he frowned. If he was only going to get one superpower and he used it on teleportation then he’d have to pass up the ability to fly. Or to be able to move objects with his mind, or to have x-ray vision…

At that point he realised that he’d spent the last five minutes contemplating superpowers and the possibility of getting them and decided that even watered down, the punch was still a bit too strong if his inner geek had been allowed to run wild even for that long. 

Now he was hoping that no one around here could read minds as that could really scupper his reputation around here.

…aaand then his mind was back to superpowers. 

Becker put the glass down hurriedly. That was it; no more punch for him.

“Not enjoying the festivities?”

Becker turned and frowned at Matt. “What makes you say that?”

Matt laughed. “Maybe the fact that you’ve invaded my hiding place?”

“Guilty as charged,” Becker admitted. “I needed to get away from Abby. What was your excuse?”

“Mistletoe.” At Becker’s confused expression, Matt elaborated. “That little redhead lab tech keeps ‘accidentally’ walking into me beneath it.”

“And you’re hiding from her?”

Matt shrugged. “She’s a nice kid and I don’t want to hurt her feelings but she really isn’t my type.”

“She’s not?”

Matt smiled, looked Becker up and down with a hungry look in his eyes. “Not even close.”

He was imagining it. He had to be. Matt couldn’t mean… could he? He was just meaning that he wasn’t interested in the tech, not that he was interested in Becker. He’d never said anything if he was. Maybe he was just hearing what he wanted to hear.

That telepathy would come in handy right now, Becker mused. 

A laugh broke into his thoughts. “Mate, I can almost see the cogs going around in there,” Matt told him, tapping his index finger to Becker’s forehead. “Now, have you caught up or do I have to spell it out for you?”

Becker’s mind blanked the moment he opened his mouth to reply and Matt rolled his eyes. 

“Spelling it out, then,” he said, hooking his finger into the front of Becker’s shirt. Pulling him down, he pressed a rough kiss to Becker’s lips. “How about now?”

Still stuck on the fact that Matt had kissed him, Becker nodded. “You just… You did, didn’t you? Maybe you should do that again, just to make sure.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Matt told him. “We could continue this at your house.”

“My house? Why my house?”

“It’s closer than my place. Why, got something you want to hide?”

Becker smiled. “No, just trying to remember if I cleaned up before I left.”

“I’m not going to be there to inspect the place,” Matt teased. “Now, let’s go.”

They began weaving their way through their now very drunk colleagues, some of whom were still attempting to dance, both men carefully avoiding Jess and Abby, knowing that they would try and convince them to stay longer. Becker had no intention of being the one caught shagging at the Christmas party – it had happened last year, two lab techs caught in what Lester referred to as ‘a compromising position’ in one of the storage rooms – and that was looking all too likely if they did stay. No, he wanted to get home before either Matt changed his mind or he woke up and realised that this was all an elaborately detailed dream. 

Now that he thought about it, he pinched himself. Just to make sure.

“No, you’re not dreaming,” Matt informed him. “For goodness’ sake, you’d think no one had ever hit on you before.”

“They have,” Becker protested, before admitting quietly, “But I never dared to think that you would.”

“You daft sod, why wouldn’t I?” Matt smiled at the flush that coloured Becker’s cheeks. “Now get moving before I grope you in the middle of the dance floor.”

He was joking, Becker decided, then jumped when he felt Matt’s hand on his arse. Turning to glare at Matt, the other man just smirked at him.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I can finish it. Of course, if you’d rather stay here and discuss it some more...”

Becker grabbed Matt’s hand and almost dragged him towards the exit.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

The following morning, Abby caught up with Becker in the armoury. 

“You left pretty early last night,” she began.

“It wasn’t that early.”

“Look, Becker, I know it wasn’t really your idea of a fun night out and I know I was a bit tipsy. I remember hassling you a bit and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-”

He leaned over and kissed Abby on the cheek, stopping her in mid apology. “I can honestly say that was the best Christmas party ever.”

 

~.~

End.


End file.
